August 2, 2016

Dear Future Lover: Let’s not Play it Cool.

couple kiss love

I know society has set some standards for us. I know we’re supposed to be nonchalant, like we’re not interested.

I know we should play mind games and confuse each other; perhaps we are expected to take everything lightly, ignore commitment, have fun and not worry about what might happen next.

I know that this is what would be normal and expected…but how about we start breaking some rules?

I want to get to know you, the real you. I don’t want us to disappear when the sun comes up. To express politely that we had fun and then go our separate ways. I want to sit down and have coffee with you, to ask what’s the story behind your tattoo; to ask about your favorite book, or your favorite sports team. I want to know why you prefer to sleep on the right side of the bed, or what great million-dollar idea you might have.

I want to tell you about my crazy dreams and hear all about yours.

I want us to dig deep, to step away from any guidelines.

I want pure, unadulterated simplicity. The verbal ping-pong, the laughter, I want us to be present without rules or requirements. I want the nervousness and excitement of the new, and the comfortability of the experienced. I don’t want us to overthink it. I want us to say the wrong thing, to admit something we shouldn’t have after one-too-many happy hour drinks. I want us to indulge in the unexpected, to set our own measure of comfort. To give in to the primitive attraction between us; no questions asked, no apologies, no hesitation. I don’t want the insecurities of our generation to cloud our judgement or allow space for regrets.

I don’t want to just come into your life, I want to alter your entire existence. I don’t want to settle down with you, I want to take off with you in every single direction. I don’t want an easy ride, I want an all-consuming, life-changing experience. I want the sweet love-making and the passionate arguments, the middle-of-the-day text, the spontaneous road trips, the little notes on the refrigerator; I want to watch you as you get ready for work, and make you late even though we promised last time would be the last time. I want to stay up with you talking about nothing, to drink cheap wine and dance around the kitchen barefooted with no music on.

I want to let go with you; let go of all the complications and misdirections. I want us to be unapologetically honest, to inspire each other to be bolder.

I don’t want us to give up our freedom, our identity, or our expectations. I want you to be your own person, to be happy without me; I don’t expect us to detach ourselves from our independence, or to separate ourselves from the possibilities of the future. I want to know that there’s a life without “us,” but that we choose to stay in spite of that.

I don’t want to hold back or suppress our feelings so we appear to be uninterested. I don’t want to wait to call you, or kiss you, or tell you why the person that you are ignites a fire inside of me and makes me feel alive. I refuse to think that love in this generation has turned into a corrupted exchange based on not showing involvement. I want to be involved. I want to dive headfirst into life with you and see where it takes us. I don’t want to pretend with you, if we’re going to be a mistake I want to walk into it consciously and with eyes wide open.

Let’s text each other too quickly, laugh too loud at our jokes, compliment each other often. Let’s challenge the norm, let’s not play it cool. Show up at my doorstep at three in the morning and invite me for a walk. Let’s go get drunk at some secluded bar and embarrass ourselves singing karaoke. Let’s get our passports and disappear for a week; or go on a camping trip and sleep under the stars because neither of us can figure out how to set up the tent; let’s be scared shitless to try something new, or settle into a mundane routine.

Let’s stop thinking about everyone else and focus on creating our own happiness.

Because I know society is expecting us to be the rule, but just this once how about we decide to be the exception?




Author: Mara Santana

Image: zelah_w at Flickr 

Editor: Renée Picard

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